Meet Your Match
by GarryxMrChairFan
Summary: Sometimes it takes meeting your alternate self to realize who you belong with. USUK; Canonverse meets Cardverse; mild crack; tumblr prompt fill for Anon. I don't even know, guys.


_**Meet Your Match**_

~GarryxMrChairFan :3

**Customary Disclaimer: **Any and all recognizable _Hetalia: Axis Powers _characters © Himaruya Hidekaz.

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**A/N: **This was an anonymous prompt request I received during the 25 followers mini-celebration to my fanfiction blog. The prompt request was a "Canonverse meets Cardverse" where America learned he was king, asked for his "hot queen", Alfred gestured to England, and awkward silence ensued (very specific).

It ended up more crackish than I really liked, but it's decent enough. I don't ever write Canonverse, so I hope it's alright!

Hope you enjoy~

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It was all America's fault.

Of course, _everything_ was that bumbling idiot's fault one way or another, and England held firm to that notion despite the fact that everything that had transpired in the last fifteen minutes had done so in his own home.

And with his magic, but that was neither here nor there.

Currently, he and the oaf, along with the other nations that had accompanied said oaf to "check on him and drag his boring ass out for some _real_ fun" – _honestly, what even went through the git's head?_ – were staring at a group quite similar in looks and expressions to each of them. The long mirror in his gathering room was still faintly glowing, circling from a deep blue to red, then green and a sunset orange, much the same as each of the colors worn by the new group of people now standing in his home.

The silence that had permeated the room was still there, tense and uncomfortable as they all observed each other with wary eyes. England wasn't sure which group was more unsettled: the nations or the others?

To his right, the young superpower – who was completely to blame, by the way; England had _told_ him not to touch the mirror – coughed, breaking the dead quiet and drawing the attention of a few of those standing about. The older nation's own green glare was severe as England scowled.

"So, Iggy. What's going on?"

England dropped his head into his hand as subdued murmurs filled the air, the tension breaking smoothly as someone had finally dared speak.

"Why in the world would you think I'd have any idea, you dolt?" he snapped. "I told you not to touch it."

"Yeah, yeah," America whined, waving his hand, "but who are these guys, Iggs? They look like us!"

"It is quite interesting, _non?"_ France was suddenly on his other side, a hand on his chin as he smirked across the room at the others, and England was sure he was eyeing himself. "I have to say I look quite dashing in that color."

Well. How predictable. England was about to retort when he heard a familiar sounding groan and chuckle from the others.

"Bloody hell, there's _two_ of you?!" Hands were thrown in the air, and everyone looked to a short man in a long deep royal purple coat, a large bow around his neck and a small top hat on his blond hair, large, eerily familiar eyebrows furrowed over glinting green eyes. "Lovely."

Another man stepped toward him, his long hair tied back with an orange ribbon as his gold robes flowed about. "It would seem so, _cher,"_ he mused, smiling. "As I said," he chuckled, "interesting."

"Ve, Germany?" Italy, who had been hiding behind the larger man, peeked out towards the others, who were now looking for their own lookalikes. "What's going on?"

The blond nation turned to pat the Italian on the head, watching his own doppelganger in flowing red robes and armor watching him with a similar small man next to him. "I'm not quite sure, Italy."

"Ve~ Ludwig! He sounds like you!"

"Yes, he does, Feli. Let go of my arm now."

"Oh my God, Lovi~ There's two of you~!"

"Oi! Let go of me, tomato-bastard!"

"Hey! I look good for a hero! Hahahaha~"

"Dude, this is so cool!"

The room continued to fill with loud chatter as the two groups converged, apparently having decided that looking exactly alike was safe enough. It was an odd experience to see everyone talking to themselves, though.

England, still staring at his own doppelganger, cleared his throat loudly, gaining the attention of everyone. "Okay. As fun as this has been, does anyone have an idea as to what the bloody fucking hell is going on?"

A shorter man, this one in a light pink kimono tied with a dark red sash, with dark hair and eyes, stepped forward timidly, bowing. "If I may," he started, "it seems you've managed to summon us from our world." He glanced around. "I would hazard a guess we are each other's alternate selves, if you would."

England regarded him, noticing his resemblance to Japan, who was standing politely to the side.

"I would have to agree, England-san," the Asian nation said quietly. "I do not know how, but it makes the most sense."

The rest of them murmured their agreement, though most of the personifications still looked baffled as to how it could be possible. England himself knew that was the answer almost immediately now that it had been spoken, as he'd found that mirror and research on it had hinted at it being a portal of sorts to alternate dimensions.

Well, then.

"Whoa, whoa," America cut in, waving his hands. "If these guys are our 'alternate selves' or whatever, then what world are they from?" He looked over to his lookalike, dressed in a dark vest and flowing sapphire coat, a Spade-shaped watch hanging from his pocket. "And what are you? You guys are dressed kinda fancy and stuff."

"You are obviously just as tactful in both universes." The England-doppelganger rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "We come from a land called Hoyle, if you must know. And we are the royalty of the four Kingdoms."

"Royalty?" England's eyebrows raised.

America had a wide smile on his face, nearly bouncing out of his shoes. "That's so cool! So what does that make me?"

The git's lookalike laughed, just as obnoxiously as the nation would, stepping forward to swing an arm around him. "You, my man, are one lucky dude!"

He stepped back, blue eyes twinkling behind his frames, arms spread wide. "Alfred F. Jones, King of Spades!"

The superpower's own blue eyes widened considerably, the young nation bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. "No way! I'm King?! Fuck yeah!" He pumped his fist in the air, and those around him backed away in fear of being punched.

"Oh, come now!" England chided with a frown. "It's not that impressive!"

America tossed him a look. "Dude. I'm a fucking King. How is that _not_ impressive?" He suddenly smirked, wagging his eyebrows. "You jealous, Iggy?"

England sputtered, flushing red. "A-Absolutely not!" he scoffed. "Why would I be jealous of _you_?"

The young nation shrugged. "Whatever." He turned back to his alternate self. "So if I'm a king, that means I have a queen, right?"

Alfred laughed and nodded. "Sure do, man."

"Sweet!" America danced about, all the other nations rolling their eyes and avoiding him, turning to speak to their own selves. "Who is it?"

Alfred gestured behind him, reaching out to pull the England lookalike to his side, the man giving an indignant squeak and his pale face flushing red as he harrumphed. The smile on the King's face was warm and tender.

"He's only the best Queen in the whole world! Ain't that right, Artie?" He leaned down to press a kiss to the blushing man's cheek, eliciting another squeak and a slap. Alfred's smile remained as he turned around to face the nations, who had all gone silent.

It was once again tense and awkward, and everyone was still. Light breathing could be heard as everyone stared at the quartet that had made the scene, the monarchs' eyes wide with amusement and the nations' with questions.

England was completely flustered and red, while America was looking at his alternate self with a puzzled expression, his own cheeks tinted pink.

Alfred looked confused as well. "Did I do something?"

America coughed uncomfortably. "Um, well..." He scratched the back of his head.

A smooth chuckle came from their right as the alternate France stepped forward. "You were not expecting him to be your Queen, _cher_?" he asked. "Is he not your partner in this world?"

Both nations in question sputtered, looking away from each other.

"What? Dude, I know you're perverted in this world, but jeez." America was shuffling his feet. "That's... That's too weird."

England crossed his arms, feeling his heart thump heavily. "Indeed. What would even attract me to this insensitive oaf in the first place? As if." He scoffed.

America pouted. "Not like you're any better!" he shot back. "You and your stupid eyebrows and gross food!"

"_Excuse me_," the alternate England snapped, stepping forward. "You happen to like my food quite a bit, you insufferable git, so shut your trap!"

"Artie, babe, chill," Alfred sighed, pulling the man close. "I don't know what's wrong with alternate me over there, but he's not _me_, so calm down."

England was still scowling at America, who was still pouting. "At least my food isn't a heart attack on bread!" he shot back petulantly.

Alternate France, along with actual France, simply shook his head. "See? You are meant to be!" He threw up his hands. "Everyone sees it."

England rounded on him. "There's nothing to see, frog!" he seethed. "This is ridiculous! America and I are _not_ 'meant to be'! Rubbish!"

The other nations and monarchs had gathered in a circle, mildly curious about the shouting that was happening, although they'd heard it numerous times before. Italy looked completely baffled.

"Ve, but I thought Mister England and Mister America were already together?"

France smirked. "As did the rest of us, my dear Italy. The sexual tension has been obvious for decades, _mes chers_." He looked at them with pitying eyes. "You really should kiss and get together already. Look how happy you are in the other world!"

Alfred's smile was large and 'Artie', while red, was still tucked securely into his side, a small tilt up of his lips on his face. The rest of the nations also nodded and mumbled their agreement, but England and America ignored them and remained stubbornly silent on the matter, not daring to look at one another. The ex-empire was fighting the fluttery feeling in his chest, while the superpower was biting his lip in uncertainty.

It wasn't true! They didn't have _feelings_ for one another, absolutely not! Well, okay, _maybe_ England had caught himself admiring the young nation every now and again, and _perhaps_ he'd wondered what it would be like to have those arms wrapped around him, and it was _possible_ that his heart always stuttered pleasantly when he thought about running his hands through that blond hair, and nuzzling against that strong chest, and...

Oh, fuck it all, France was right.

Coughing delicately, England cleared his throat. "W-Well, anyway. I suppose I should help get you all back to your own world, yes? The mirror will have to be activated once again –" He started walking towards the mirror, trying to ignore his thoughts.

"Iggy, wait –" America reached out for him, but he shrugged the warm hand off his shoulder.

"– and I am truly sorry this happened. This must have put your schedules terribly behind, and –"

"Dammit, Iggs, please –"

England turned on his heel, glare trained on shining blue eyes as the younger nation stood before him, a determined set to his face. "_What?_"

America was right before him, his larger, warm hands cupping the English nation's face gently, thumbs caressing his cheeks. His smile was small and sheepish, but genuine and _God_, those butterflies in his stomach needed to piss off right about now. His hands reached up to rest against the strong chest in front of him.

"Some hero I've been, huh?" The American chuckled. "It really shouldn't have taken meeting our alternate selves to figure this out."

England snorted. "You've never been very bright," he retorted, a smirk crossing his lips. "Idiot."

America winked. "_Your_ idiot," he corrected, before leaning forward and pressing their mouths together.

England just barely registered the collective "Finally!" that erupted in the room, contentedly ignoring them in favor of the arms wrapping around his waist and his own sliding around America's neck.

The kiss lasted but a moment more, happy applause filling the air as they pulled apart and grinned at each other, England's face still a bright red as he buried it into America's chest.

"Okay!" Alfred shouted above the din, his voice carrying a sort of commanding power that had everyone looking to him immediately. He grinned. "Since mine and Artie's souls have figured themselves out in _this_ world –" England shot him a look, "– it's time we go home!" He pouted shortly after. "I am _not_ looking forward to that paperwork."

With chuckles and eye rolls, all the monarchs moved over to the mirror, still glowing faintly. After last waves, four of them - Artie and the Japan, Hungary, and Liechtenstein lookalikes - reached out, sigils glowing from their palms. As the circles grew and melded, the nations were forced to cover their eyes as a blinding white light engulfed the room, and as they blinked the spots from their vision, the others were gone and the mirror once again had an aging brass frame.

Silence reigned for a moment before England huffed. "Well. If that wasn't 'real fun', I daresay I don't know what is." He smiled as everyone chuckled, America's arms around his waist.

"Now, if you all would like, you may join me for afternoon tea and scones –"

England had never seen a room clear faster.

America just chuckled brightly and hugged him tighter.

_END_

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**_Well. There you have it. /)U(\ Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated! Leave your thoughts: good, bad, and everything in between. _**

**_Much love, my dears. :3  
~GarryxMrChairFan_**


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